


Doesn't Let Go

by Jane St Clair (3jane)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3jane/pseuds/Jane%20St%20Clair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's blood everywhere, and Tim won't let go of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doesn't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after page 4 of Identity Crisis #6.
> 
> To call this hurt/comfort supposes that any of what follows actually improves the situation.

Bruce has to carry him. Tim doesn't have boots, or even socks on, and he's in no condition to walk. He's covered in blood.

 

So. He carries Tim to the Batmobile. Drives him home and lifts him out again. And Tim keeps not letting go. Bruce had to pry Tim's fingers loose one by one to settle him in the car. Moving through the Cave now, he can hear Tim's fingernails scraping on the kevlar of his chest.

 

Bruce isn't good at comforting people. He can reassure, because that only takes about ten seconds, and there are trauma counsellors who come to find the people he saves, and put them back together. He'd like to leave Tim to Alfred, but Tim won't let go of him.

 

What would Alfred do?

 

Bath. Clean clothes. Food.

 

Tim won't go into the shower alone, but he can deal with that. He settles Tim in his lap and peels off the top half of the Batsuit. Tim wraps himself around Bruce, skin to skin, as soon as he can. He doesn't make a sound. Just shakes.

 

Naked Tim in his arms all the way across the Cave to the shower.

 

He turns the water on, hot. Tim's between Bruce and the water stream, but he keeps climbing away from the water and onto Bruce. And it isn't. He needs Tim to let *go*. They've touched more in the last hour than they've touched in three years of working together.

 

When Tim's mother died, all Tim wanted was a basic, slightly manly hug.

 

Part of Bruce, down in the dark, near the Bat but not the Bat, wants to be alone for a while. It isn't going to happen. He has to keep holding Tim up. Arms under Tim's arms, hands in the small of his back.

 

This isn't helping. The blood's on Tim's front.

 

If he can just. Shift. Wrap himself around Tim from behind, leaving an arm at chest level for Tim to cling to. One free hand to scrub Tim's bloodstained skin under the hot water. Face. Chest. Arms, as much as he can reach. There's blood under Tim's nails, but Tim isn't going to let go long enough for Bruce to scrub his hands. Like Tim thinks he might drown in the steam if Bruce leaves.

 

Down. Belly and thighs. There's blood all down his legs, but Bruce can't reach that.

 

He can feel Tim tense slightly, then relax as he washes him. Not letting go, but marginally less knotted. He keeps doing it. Chest and arms, belly and thighs. Back of Tim's neck. Shoulders. Hips on either side.

 

Tim leans back against Bruce's chest and lets the water hit him in the face. He turns red under the heat. Bruce can't tell if Tim's crying.

 

He's waiting for Tim to cry. When he carried Dick home, the night Dick's parents died, Dick cried.

 

He doesn't remember crying himself, the night his parents died, but he doesn't actually remember much of anything beyond kneeling beside them in the dark.

 

Tim shoulders shake convulsively. Not trembling anymore, but shaking *hard*. Tim twists, suddenly, in Bruce's arms, and turns toward again. Face still tilted back to catch the water.

 

And then Tim straightens and looks at him. Opens his mouth like he's going to scream but nothing comes out. His head drops down. Skull against Bruce's chest. He can feel Tim's open mouth against his skin. Stretched lips. Teeth.

 

Feels Tim push that mouth against him and then lean back, mouth open, eyes screwed up tight. He isn't ever going to be able to scream like this.

 

He has to do something. It's obscene, standing here watching Tim try to scream and fail.

 

Bruce ducks his head and kisses Tim's open mouth.

 

*there*

 

Locks his mouth against Tim's and sucks like he can pull out sound.

 

It almost works. He can feel something in Tim soften, and the lip-stretch eases. Soft little mouth that relaxes under his.

 

Soft little body he's bending almost over backwards.

 

He's going to stop. Except, when he opens his eyes, Tim's staring at him from an inch away, mouth-locked to him, and he feels Tim's nails rake his neck and shoulders.

 

So. Down on his knees, taking Tim down with him, and as soon as they're on the floor Tim crawls into his lap. Straddles him and kisses him frantically like he thinks Bruce will leave if Tim lets go of him.

 

Slick naked boy in his lap. Bruce strokes hands down Tim's calves, rubbing away the streaky blood.

 

He understands why Tim's hard. Trauma, terror, survival-deep responses. And he's sixteen. The fact that Bruce is hard too is more disturbing.

 

Tim keeps trying to get *closer* to him. Scrabbling with his feet on the wet tile and pulling with both arms. He's going to climb right into Bruce in a minute. All of him screaming, *don't let go of me*.

 

Bruce brings his arms up. Pulls Tim in against him tight and locks him there, almost immobile.

 

*I've got you*

 

This might be the only thing he has right now that Tim needs.

 

Once he has Tim locked against him, he can feel the boy still. Calm for those few seconds before he needs to breathe and Bruce has to ease his grip slightly or crush him.

 

So. Yes.

 

He lays Tim back. Chest to chest, and Bruce never entirely releases. Lets his weight fall on Tim and holds him down.

 

Hot water pools around them, soaking Tim's hair down. He can feel the needle-strike of it on his back.

 

Hold him down. All of his weight he thinks Tim can take without being crushed. He lets Tim slide his legs apart, enough to move their bodies closer, then leans in hard. Shifts his body a little along Tim's. Kisses him.

 

Hands on either side of Tim's head; weight on his elbows. Mouth pressing his head back against the tiles.

 

One of Tim's legs snakes around him. Pulls him closer.

 

He kisses Tim all over his face. Rocks them slowly on the floor and makes a point of stilling in between thrusts, so Tim can feel how completely he's held. One of Tim's legs is up on his hip, now; the other's hooked at Bruce's knee.

 

Kiss him just under his eyes. Kiss his hairline. Kiss his cheek and his jaw. Still while Tim sucks kisses on Bruce's lower lip.

 

Thrust against him.

 

Tim's so *hard*. He can feel it against his belly. His own cock brushes Tim's ass when he thrusts. If he pushed up, just that extra bit --

 

He wouldn't be able to see Tim anymore.

 

Thrust so Tim can feel it. Wait. Thrust. Tim twists a little under him, as much as he can. Too much. Bruce leans in, holding him still.

 

Locks his mouth onto Tim's, kisses the boy 'til his eyes close. And rocks against him steadily until he feels Tim arch and come between them, wailing very softly. It's the first noise Tim's made in almost two hours.

 

The tension in him melts. Every muscle in him was pushing up against Bruce; the melt-away's warm liquid that lets Bruce settle that much closer.

 

Kiss Tim's face while he wails. This tiny, tiny sound in the midst of the water.

 

When Bruce rocks back onto his knees, Tim comes with him. Settles into Bruce's lap again and rocks there, whimpering quietly and mouthing Bruce's shoulder. Shifting closer as often as he can. Often enough for Bruce to wonder how deliberate it is.

 

Teeth dig into him, and then Tim leans back, balancing against Bruce's arm, far enough to look him in the eye. Red whites and red rims, but they're both too wet for him to know whether Tim's actually crying. Tim's mouth twitches, though, and his expression locks. He lifts a hand and runs it over the side of Bruce's face.

 

Settles down and *rides* Bruce's lap.

 

It feels. Amazing. Soft wet skin against his cock, and Tim's focus is absolute. Close and very steady.

 

Very, very hard.

 

Blinding.

 

Bruce tightens his arms around Tim. Whispers, *I've got you.* Comes.

 

The water doesn't stop. When Tim settles, Bruce smoothes water down over him. Back, shoulders, hips. Down between his legs to wash off what Bruce left there. Tim breathes hard and doesn't say anything.

 

There are nail marks in Bruce's shoulders.

 

And. He should be looking for what Tim needs next. Clean clothes. Food. Sleep. But Tim's leaning in against him, breathing almost steadily, and Bruce isn't going to disturb him. Just kiss his face softly, occasionally, until Tim decides he's ready to let go.

 

[16 March 2005]


End file.
